


Fragments and Cracks

by Thalatte



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-02 21:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11517912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalatte/pseuds/Thalatte
Summary: Small bits and bobs relating to Critical Role. Many of it stream of consciousness, and just not long enough to warrant individual story posting. Each chapter not necessarily related to the others. Characters and pairing (if applicable) will be listed in the chapter headings. Most (if not all) fic cross posted to the tumblr account: thirdhouseofwhitestone





	1. Everything Matters (Percy and Ioun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy and the Labyrinth. Ioun being who she is and what she encompasses, and finding bliss in history. (Mildly edited from the original tumblr posting. I tried to go in and flesh out the ending, but it wasn't happening.)
> 
> Note: I do not wish to get into the debate currently happening between who "gets" Ioun. This is merely an exploration of a possibility that I like.

He knew the moment the rows and columns upon rows and columns of books, tapestries, manuscripts, and tablets were in front of him. How they stretched out of his vision. How it hurt to simply stare at the sheer immensity of history. He  _knew_. He was hers. Or she was his. Or they were something else, something split apart finally finding their way together.

He chided himself. Of course Ioun was the one. Why no other god was worthy of his faith. The sun always rises and sets. Death is an inevitability of nature. Time heals and stitches all wounds. Trees grow and flower. But  _knowledge_ , knowledge,  _that_ can only exist if there’s someone to learn. Someone to record. Someone to tell the story, to pass it on. Ioun’s Labyrinth existed to contain knowledge, but the knowledge was not born from her. She was a custodian. A champion in her own way, of a concept that could not be without someone to first create it.

Percy’s fingers passed over the blank bindings of the books along his path. He hoped, he  _prayed_ , that Ioun had the same reverence for what she kept that he felt then. If she knew what this all meant to a being who would be lucky to live a century. A small whisper in the back of his head sabotaged his thoughts, telling him that she would be like the others: aloof and curt, an entity to offer distrust first, and then a grudging gift after passing judgement. The lifespan of a mortal and what restrictions that brought would be of no matter to her.

No. He wouldn’t allow this to be taken from him. She was knowledge and history. She simply could not be without the scholars and the historians who followed her. She needed him for what he offered, and he wasn’t foolish enough to say that he didn’t need her. The Labyrinth showed that clearly. Percy was past want. He confessed to needing this moment of perspective that she provided. Legacy and history kept safe. He said ‘immortality’ and he truly meant it. Himself, Vox Machina, Whitestone, Tal’Dorei. Immortal here. Even if the names eventually were lost. Whatever will be, will be the sum of what came before.

He was never afraid of death. He welcomed it because it seemed the final result to his broken existence. Now, Percy knew death would take him, someday; but somewhere among the books were his words, his story. Words scripted in Celestial that would lead to more words, and spread to different books, and those books would be written as time moved forward. And there would be sorrow and fear and anger, but that was just a small fraction of what could be.

Percy looked at Vex. He was made from what came before, as was she. And what came next would be written together by an unseen hand, and read by unseen eyes, and placed next to different words. And maybe someday, another broken man would come upon them and see that everything is connected. That everything matters. That the gunpowder fingerprints left in a dusty tome had found purpose in knowledge.


	2. Sunspots (Vex/Percy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Champions of gods have small quirks and changes that develop over time. (Fixed a tag. Kind of spaced out when tagging this upon initial update.)

“My dear, your divinity is showing.”

A soft whisper in Vex’s ear as Percy brushed the hair away from her forehead, making the soft spots of sun that had graced her temples and around her eyes all the more obvious.

She made an exasperated noise, a thing he chuckled at because her displeasure was entirely feigned. The sunlit freckles had only started appearing a month ago, and ever since, Vex had overjoyed in displaying them. At least in the privacy of her own home. While brazenly going out and having a physical token of her blessing from Pelor on display for all to see had a certain appeal, she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to adopt that mentality among the people of her city.

The sun spots danced on the papers scattered across her desk as she stared sidelong at Percy. He delighted in them, of that she was sure. Percy had been the first to notice (of course), and the first to test what reactions he could get from them. Small things, the bits of light had started showing at her temples, with tinier, more subtle clusters across her nose. More recently they had appeared almost like leopard spots across her shoulders. Vex couldn’t quite put the feeling into words, but she could tell her back was next. There was a sort of warmth and pressure she felt, forming just beneath her skin. She didn’t pay it too much mind, Pike had assuaged any fears she may have had almost immediately when Vex had asked about this new “ailment.” The small gnome had shucked off her shirt, showing the stripes of Sarenrae’s light across her torso and back. The “Tiger of the Everlight” was what Pike hoped would eventually be written down about her. So it would just be as it appeared: a mark of the fragment of divinity granted as champion.

Oh yes, Vex remembered, as she saw Percy smile down at her,  _reactions_. The man surely was a beacon of frustration when there was something to test, and her new inner light was no exception. He was doing it now even, whispering in her ear, brushing her hair aside, letting his hand drift across the sun freckling. Where he touched, the sunlight flared. Not blinding, her spots were too small, but a warm glow that seemed to make the air hum and vibrate whenever his fingers passed over them.

“You are insufferable. If you wanted attention you simply had to ask. Not all of us can claim pressing business in our workshop and avoid _running a city_.” Vex glared at him, a quirk of her lip showing she didn’t object as much as she let on.

Percy put on an expression of mock pain. “Vex, my little light, how could you think -”

“Call me ‘little light’ again and we’ll see how far you get, darling.”

“Fair.” He dropped his hands to her shoulders and rolled his thumbs into her neck muscles. “A quiet night in bed was my offer, but a companion as you finish up this,” he gestured to her disorganized stack of papers, “is on the table as well.”

Vex hummed and imagined. She let herself drift off, imagining her skin as Percy’s hands brushed over it. While she flared brightly in certain respects, in others, she clouded over. Percy keeping a relaxing hand on her while she finished was appealing. Watching the light dance under and over her skin with the movements of his fingertips. But in bed… In bed where his smoke got under her skin and drifted over and under and around. Bright lights shrouded in dark purple, glaring weakly through smoke just out of her reach and unable to brush away, but she would try. And when she tried, sparks. 

A choice between a soft sunset under her skin, or a midnight wildfire. Surely what she had could wait. The wildfire wished to burn.


End file.
